Cancer Again
by musician95
Summary: The Red Band Society probably wouldn't exist without cancer patient Leo Roth. But even for optimisitc, strong-willed Leo, the news of getting cancer for the second time might just be too much to bear.


_Cancer._

What a strange word, if you think about it. What a strange and terrible word.

I gotta admit, when I first heard it, I was frightened to death. But that was just because of the surprise effect. Back then, the last thing I expected was hearing the word "cancer", so when Dr. McAndrew practically threw it at my face, I couldn't help but freak out.

In the following weeks and months, the word "cancer" seemed to haunt me in every possible way. I heard it whispered behind closed doors when my parents were arguing at home, or when they were on the phone with someone from the hospital. I heard it in the hallways at school whenever I walked by. I even heard it in my dreams.

When I first found out that I had cancer, I used to have this weird nightmare. I'm in the middle of a soccer match and it's my turn to take the essential penalty kick. Then, right as my foot's about to hit the ball, I hear one of my teammates whisper: "Leo has cancer". And the word carries on throughout the stadium until it's all I hear, all I can think about. There's no room left for air. I can't breathe anymore.

That's when I usually woke up, feeling like I was on the verge of suffocating. At the hospital, they told me there was nothing abnormal or embarrassing about nightmares like this. "It's just a way to progress everything that's happening to you right now", they said.

 _Yeah, of course. It's easy to give speeches from your position, douchebags._

Anyway, before they suggested I see a psychologist or anything, I decided to get my shit together and start working on my recovery. "Cancer" was just a word. I knew that taking off my leg might not work, that even after chemo I might end up dead, but I couldn't allow myself to think that way. Instead, I focused on beating cancer.

I went through surgery, chemo, everything Dr. McAndrew had up his sleeve. I never asked for a break, and I never complained. "Cancer" was just a word. And not in a thousand years would I give that word the power to kill me.

So that's how I became Superman, I guess. Except I'm not – and I've never been – a hero. I know that now.

Seriously, how stupid can one be to think he can beat cancer? A deadly disease doesn't leave you alone just like that. If it chooses you, you're doomed. I was as good as dead from the moment I got my diagnosis. And now it's official: I'm gonna die. Cutting off my leg didn't work, chemo didn't work – _nothing_ worked. This morning, I thought I was going home. I thought I'd be able to play soccer again.

 _Duh._

It was like cancer itself was laughing right at my face. _Poor, stupid Leo. Thinks he can destroy me. Thinks he can be cured. How pathetic!_

Poor, stupid Leo. That's what I saw when I looked at my parents after they'd received the bad news. I saw it written across Dad's forehead and in Mum's eyes. They couldn't help but pity me. So I figured that, if the time for pity had arrived, my death must be a safe bet.

"Cancer" may be just a word. But I'm gonna tell you what the real deal is: "Cancer Again".

You can be strong the first time. You can grit your teeth and make it go away. But it'll never be gone for good. Just when you've reached the point where you dare dreaming about the future again, cancer will catch up with you, and you'll be as vulnerable as never before.

 _That's_ how cancer strikes. That's its most powerful move. Even stronger than the surprise effect of getting cancer is the surprise effect of getting it _again._

The thing is that, having fought it once, you can't imagine going through that fight again. It's like looking back at the most crucial time of your life, a time of torture and bondage that you finally believed to be over, only to realize that it's not.

In fact, it's never gonna be over.

Every time I think it is, there'll be more pain, more surgery, more chemo, more dreaming about soccer and getting my hopes up and then being disappointed at the last second. I mean, I've had all my stuff packed up already, I've said goodbye to my friends, I was right about to leave my time at the hospital behind for good – and that's when cancer decides to make its move. Why not yesterday? Or better yet, why not kill me right at the beginning? Why letting me go through all that pain if I get killed just as well in the end?

So here I am, wishing I was dead. Not so heroic, is it? Not heroic at all.

I told you I was no Superman. It's not my fault everybody treated me that way.

"Hey, you."

The tiny, inconspicuous voice belongs to Emma, who's pushing her skinny body through the door, followed by some transfusion bag thingy on wheels.

I don't answer. There are tears on my face that I don't want her to see and hopelessness in my voice that I don't want her to hear. It's gonna be for the best if she just leaves, which I hope she'll do when I keep ignoring her.

"Leo?"

God, I missed her. And I can't help but look at her, 'cause her hair looks so beautiful today. I mean, she actually looks pretty terrible all together, pale and tired and thin as usual, but that doesn't stop her from being beautiful.

It's that kind of beauty that I always loved about her. Not the obvious kind, like when you look at Kara and instantly know that she's gonna be Prom Queen someday. No, Emma's beautiful in a whole different way. It's a quiet, but haunting beauty that never stopped giving me goose bumps whenever I saw her. Even now, I feel them creeping up my bare arms, and I let out a deep sigh.

 _Sorry, Emma, but you're talking to a dead man._

"You're cold", Emma says when she sees the goose bumps. She pulls the blanket up to my chest and sits down next to me, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed.

We don't talk. I hope that she's gonna leave, but she doesn't. She just takes my hand in hers and wipes my tears away and, hell, _I don't get it._ What's wrong with her? Doesn't she see that I'm as good as dead? Doesn't she _know?_

"Hey, Leo. I love you."

And I love her, no doubts. But that's not what this is about. It's about me dying, whether Emma loves me or not.

"You're really scary like this, you know that?" she rambles on. "I just wanna help you, Leo. We all want. So say something."

 _You want me to say something?_ Fine.

"You can't help me", I tell her. "You can't, okay? I got cancer and you gotta accept the fact that there's nothing you can do about it."

Emma takes a deep breath. "I know why you're angry, Leo. You think that I can just decide to eat again and leave this hospital whenever I want. Whereas you, you are _really_ sick. I get it. You've got cancer, and you deserve everyone's pity so much more than I do."

"You think _that's_ what I want? You think I wanna be _pitied_? Trust me, pity's actually the very last thing on this planet that I want right now."

I can't help it, but the way she talks is making me so unbelievably angry. I thought Emma of all people would understand, but turns out she doesn't get me at all. Could my life be any more ruined by this point?

When I let go of her hand, Emma hurries to explain herself. "No, that's not what I meant, Leo! Seriously, I'm just trying to make you feel better. I'm just trying to do the right thing, but I don't know how! And I know you wanna be alone, but I also know that you've been here all day not talking a word to anybody and –"

"Just calm down already", I cut her off. "I'm sorry, but I told you: There's nothing you can do to make me feel better."

"You're a fighter. I know you can do this." She's staring at her hands, as pale and bony as the rest of her body.

"Don't you give me that crap again, Emma!" I reply. "What do you think Dr. McAndrew told me earlier? And my parents and Jordi and everybody else. Why do you believe that I'm a freaking superhero, huh? I'm a nobody, and guess what: I'm also gonna die as one."

I have to close my eyes in order to hold back tears.

Emma is gripping my hand again. "That's bullshit, and you know it. Nobody expects you to beat cancer in one day or anything. But if you try, then maybe you can make it out alive again, like last time. Right?"

When I look at her, I just can't say no. I can't disappoint her. If Emma wants me to try, then I'll do it. It's my only option, anyways. It's all I can do, even if I know that it won't work out in the end.

"Okay."

Emma smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. They're still so dark, so sad. Normally, when she smiles, her whole face lights up and she looks like a little kid opening its first Christmas present. I kinda want her to look that way right now. I miss that smile.

"I'm gonna try, Emma", I tell her, giving her hand a gently squeeze, "but I honestly don't know what they're gonna do with me. It seems like they've already tried everything there is. Surgery, chemo, what other options do I have?"

"There are all different types of chemotherapy", Emma says.

"Yeah, that's what Dr. McAndrew told me."

"Just because it didn't work out last time, it doesn't mean that you're a lost cause, Leo. You're not."

"And what if I am? What if that's exactly what I am?"

My voice is about to break, but it doesn't matter. Emma's hands are there, cradling my head in her lap until it's all good.

When I open my eyes, I see her face framed by those gorgeous brown curls, falling so softly over her shoulders. In this hospital, in the middle of all these broken people, she's like an angel to me.

"My parents always told me how profoundly _good_ I used to be", Emma says quietly. "Until I stopped eating, of course. The way they were talking, it sounded like I was Mother Teresa herself."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I get that you don't wanna be Superman anymore. And you don't need to be. You don't need to get up right now and kick cancer's ass. You're allowed to stay here as long as you want, and you're allowed to cry and throw things against the wall and yell at everyone in this freaking hospital to leave you the hell alone."

I actually manage a small grin. "Wow, did I just hear Emma Chota _curse_?"

"Like I said, I'm not Mother Teresa." And then she smiles her brightest, full-on smile, and I reach up to her face and she bends down to kiss me.

When we break apart, Emma says: "You gotta promise me one thing, okay?"

As much as I'd like to say "Yeah, whatever it is", I can't. 'Cause I feel like I know what she's making me promise, and that's a promise I'm not sure I can keep.

"Leo, promise me."

"You know that I can't promise you that", I reply. "It's not up to me if I –"

"That's not what I meant", she interrupts me. "I want you to promise that you'll try. Like, _really_ try. You can be sad as much as you want, but you gotta stand up eventually and try. And if it doesn't work, I'll be the saddest person on earth, but I'll also know that there's nothing more you could've done… and that's the only way I'm gonna let you go."

I don't hesitate. I look up at Emma's face, right into her beautiful dark eyes, and say: "I promise you. I promise you, Emma, that I'm gonna try. Just like last time. I promise that I'll try _again,_ and again and again, if that's what you want. As many times as it takes. Okay?"

She nods. "Okay."

So I got cancer again. And maybe I'm not strong enough to stand up just like that and kick its ass like last time, but the good thing is I don't have to. You wanna know how you really fight cancer? How you fight it again?

You try. You really, truly, thoroughly try.

Again.


End file.
